“Oh, no, it’s all so clear. Poor Aunt Harriet has made me realize that. I never saw anyone so upset as she was yesterday; she nearly broke down, poor dear. She has made me see that there is so much at stake for them all, that it simply becomes one’s duty not to go on.”
“Rubbish! Rubbish! Rubbish!” The Tenderfoot suddenly became tempestuous. “Mere parochialism, I assure you. I’ve been back six months, and every day it strikes me more and more what a lot we’ve got to learn. Our so-called social fabric is mainly bunkum. Half the prejudice in these islands is a mere cloak for damnable incompetence. Forgive my saying just what is in my mind, but this flunkeyism of ours—try to keep the daggers out of your eyes, my charmer!—fairly gets one all the time. In one form or another one’s always up against it.”
“It isn’t flunkeyism at all.” The air of outrage was nothing less than adorable.
“Let me finish——”
“Under protest!” Her face was aglow with the light of battle.
“It’s perfectly absurd to take a mere pompous stunt like Bridport House at its own valuation.”
“I won’t have you vulgar—I won’t allow you to be vulgar!”
“Be it so, Miss Prim—but I don’t apologize. One’s uncles, cousins, aunts, they are all alike, whether they are yours or mine. They simply grovel before material greatness—the greatness that comes of money—that begins and ends with money.”
“Don’t be rude, sir!” The stamp of a particularly smart riding boot, and a flash of angry eyes were as barbs to this fiat.
“They are all so set on things that don’t matter a bit, that they lose sight altogether of the one thing that is really important.”